


Overindulgence

by axelle_alenko



Category: Original Work
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Banter, Blow Jobs, First Time, Gay Sex, M/M, POV First Person, Porn with Feelings, Young Love, but at the same time, he's perf how he is, i want to apologize on behalf of how robyn is, idiotic non-filter and everything, this is the gayest gay i've ever gayed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-19
Updated: 2019-03-19
Packaged: 2019-11-24 03:21:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18160808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/axelle_alenko/pseuds/axelle_alenko
Summary: Now that everyone knew our little secret, it didn't feel right to hold back. Not tonight.





	Overindulgence

**Author's Note:**

> HEY ALL LMAO  
> so i know it's been like seventy five years since I've posted on ao3 and for that i really want to apologize  
> i'm throwing this up to drag myself out of the grave and let ya'll know i'm still kicking
> 
> I do want to say, however, that if you want to keep up-to-date on my works, I spend most of my time over on wordpress now  
> [Here](https://fromacage.wordpress.com/) is my SFW blog, where I'll post personal updates and also SFW fiction, and my side-blog, found [here](https://withinthecage.wordpress.com/), is my collection of smutmcsmutterson.
> 
> Feel free to continue to follow here, but I can't guarantee I'll be as active!  
> THAT ASIDE  
> hello welcome to The Gaying Hour™  
> this is a massive fic I've spent the last five or so months working on, and at last, it's ready to be seen by the public eye  
> so. much. porn.  
> i feel like a weight has been lifted, like my gaydar can finally take a vacation to the bahamas and drink as many martinis as it so desires  
> anyways  
> it's first person POV, so if that's not your style, fams, feel free to yeet yourself back. ALSO this is actually a mid-series entry, but i'm not gonna upload them all to ao3 i'm sorrymybabes. thankfully, you don't really have to have read the others, so this works as its own standalone, too  
> you can find all the other entries on my wordpress 8D; ahahaha  
> ENJOY!!!

Sometimes, I still felt like I was walking a dream.

I kissed Tate. He stuck around, and then some. Then he disappeared, only to resurface and admit his feelings. And now, we’d been dating in secrecy for months.

The school days bled into each other, and in the blink of an eye, Lunar Vista High was holding its yearly prom.

I remember when we came out to his parents, hand-in-hand. His mother had almost squealed, confiding that she had always known there was something going on between us. His father had grunted and mumbled about how it wasn’t in the least bit surprising that his son, the cheerleader, had a thing for sticks and slots. No matter their reactions, they ended up being stupid levels of supportive. My mother had been supportive to the point of buying me a dildo and a few vibes, for “practice”. It had been creepy, to say the very least.

They never saw much use, mostly for the fact that I was far too embarrassed to even broach the subject with Tate.

Our friends were a different story, though. Mine had been aghast I would even consider myself in the presence of what they viewed to be “jock trash,” while his were in a constant state of denial over his preferences, or that he would have stooped to  _me_. Eventually, the true friends stuck around, and the posers were weeded out. So I guess it was better in the end- find out who really values you, and who just wants to fit into the crowd.

When Tate asked me to prom, I had kicked myself and bit my lip to keep back the idiotic squee, and strangled out, “Of course,” because duh, of goddamn course I’m going to prom with my pretty, perfect, too-good-for-me boyfriend.

_Boyfriend_. It never failed to feel weird to think or say it. I had thought I’d be that horrible rebound lay my entire life. But of course, I was wrong.

The dance itself was a blur. He got crowned Prom King to no one’s real surprise, and the Queen was pouting about how her date hadn’t been it instead.

I was glad I was in the back of the auditorium, so she couldn’t hear my laugh.

And then I was stumbling through my own door, teeth on my lip, a tongue prodding mine, and fingers tugging at the tie of my tux.

My mother was out on an overtime graveyard shift, then had a business trip, so we had the house to ourselves for a while. And judging by the way he was trying to peel my clothes off of me, it was a good goddamn thing.

We barely managed to stumble up the stairs, detaching ourselves just long enough to grab the railing and steady our heated heads. He flashed me a grin that made me feel weak in the knees, then grasped my hand, tugging me into my room.

He unfastened my vest and flung it onto the floor, untucking my shirt in the next beat, cool fingers brushing over the flat of my stomach. I shivered and glanced down at him, eyes narrowing as he fixed me with a look of faux innocence.

“What are you planning, Invisiboy?”

He snorted at the nickname and stood on his toes to nip at my collar, fingers making quick work of the top two buttons. He paused, mid-lick halfway to my ear, and huffed, then bit down on the skin, making me actually squeak. My face reddened.

“I haven’t decided yet. But there are too many layers.” I couldn’t answer, his mouth over mine before his words could even process. He made quick work of the rest of my top, backing away to glance down at my right arm. A week and a half ago, I’d gotten a full-sleeve tattoo, much to my mother’s chagrin. She at least was cool about it, for the most part. Tate traced a finger over the tribal flames and I sucked in a breath as my arm broke out in goose bumps at his touch.

“It’s healing really well.” His fingers continued to trace over the maroon. I watched him with interest and tried to swallow around the lump in my throat. I grabbed his wrist, rougher than I meant, and he looked up in shock, beautiful eyes wide.

“I’m sorry, did that hurt?”

I shook my head and pulled him flush against my chest, making him yelp. I couldn’t fight the smirk, and I grasped his chin, smashing my lips against his.

He was right about there being too many layers, but now I was the only one shirtless. It wasn’t fair.

I sank my teeth into his lower lip in the same breath that I tugged his tie loose. He jolted and huffed out a moan against me, and it added fuel to the already boiling pit in my stomach. I broke our kiss to chase the retreating fabric of his top, tie carelessly joining the pile on the floor. He trembled under me, whether from nerves or anticipation, I couldn’t tell. It was growing harder to think.

I was determined to leave as many marks on him as I could, that wouldn’t be obvious to his parents.

With his shirt at last gone, my teeth sinking into his shoulder, I yanked him closer by a loop in his pants, hissing against the flesh in my mouth at the clumsy clashing of our hips. He whimpered, and I felt my knees wobble. God  _damn_  he was going to kill me.

“R-Roby..” His voice had a nervous tremble to it, and I risked a glance upward, his breath hitching when I dragged my tongue against the darkening mark on his shoulder.

Tate’s face was flushed a bright red that put my hair to shame. He swallowed when we made eye contact, and I straightened, hand once more finding his chin. “Relax, okay? Just… Try to put this in the same frame of mind as that night with Luna.”

He fidgeted at the name and forced a choked laugh. “You bought into the rumor too, huh?” His voice was slightly accusatory, and I blinked.

“What?”

He cleared his throat and eased away to sit on the edge of my bed. His hands folded in his lap, haphazardly hiding the tent, and he refused to meet my eyes. “We never slept with each other. She just… Hyped it up beyond recognition.”

Luna was Lunette, his longest-running relationship before I came crashing into the picture. A sweet, strange girl, with delicate and mischievous features, and a voice that had acted much like a siren’s call to most of the upper class. They had ended on a sour note when her brother had started nosing around and nearly broke them up himself.

It dawned on me then. This was the farthest he’d ever been with another person. Which meant…

“So I’m punching your v-card, huh? Sweet.” The words were out of my stupid mouth before I could stop them. He looked up, shock clear as rain on his face, and I wanted to slap myself.

But then he laughed, face going even brighter, and flopped back onto my bed, hands covering his face. I took the opportunity to straddle his lap, and grinned sheepishly down at him. He peeked at me between his fingers.

“God, Roby, do you even  _know_  what a filter is?”

“Nope. Can you eat it?”

His laugh morphed into a high-pitch keen as I dropped my hips and ground against him, jolting him back to the reality of the situation. He dropped his hands with a groaning huff and glared up at me.

“That’s mean.” I shrugged and leaned down to nip at the tip of his nose.

“Life’s mean, babe. Get used to it.” He huffed and tried to sit up, but I pushed him back down, getting a squeak out of him. I used my leverage over him to trail kisses down his narrow chest, watching the rise and fall, his breath stuttering when I trailed past his navel. I let him recover, just for a moment, before latching on teeth-first onto his hip, one hand tugging his pants down the other hip. He lifted himself up enough to allow me to tug them off of him completely, leaving him in boxers that clung to his frame.

“You should take off your- aahh!” He had started to suggest I lose more clothing, but trailed off into an unsteady moan. I’d descended on the tent so close to my face, mouth wrapped around the cotton of his fly, tongue tracing his outline. He whimpered and tried to chase my lips when I pulled away, and I snorted, pinning his hips with a firm hand. The whine that left him was laced with so much frustration I suddenly felt like some medieval villain.

I swallowed, eyes locked onto his length, watching as it twitched at the loss, harshly outlined where I’d soaked through his boxers. I’d never actually been this close to it… It was tempting as all hell. “Am I being too mean?” I cooed, finally raking my eyes up the length of his chest, to meet his frustrated glare.

“You know you are.” Oh, he was so  _cute_  like this, face flushed, chest lifting with his shallow breaths, glaring, despite the fact that he was rock hard inches from my face. I felt giddy realizing that I was the cause of his state.

My hand lifted to skirt around him, and I watched the pleading look in his eyes change to something so needy it was outright lewd. I wanted to tease him more, but I felt like a criminal when he looked at me like that.

Caving at last, I slipped my thumb under his fly, pushing it over enough to let him slide through. He sighed, a noise that made me feel like I was going to die of boner. My own face had surely taken on new shades of red, but I fought through the sudden surge of anxiety and embarrassment.

The noise he made as I wrapped my mouth around his head was going to  _kill_  me, a low, whimpering breath accompanied by the sound of his fingers tangling into my sheets and catching. The first bead of pre-come fell against my tongue, and I was trying not to smirk around him at how easily he was already worked up.

When I began to bob my head, and risked a glance upward, I felt like I’d surely died and gone to heaven. His face was red, mouth hanging open, breath coming in shallow pants. His brow was furrowed in tight concentration, and when our eyes met, he sank his teeth into his lower lip to suppress a sound that probably would have killed me outright.

He stopped me after a few minutes, cock twitching as it finally was exposed to the cold air once more. “I-I don’t…want to…” He swallowed. “Not in your mouth.”

“I wouldn’t mind.” The response was automatic and genuine, face serious as I glanced back up at him. He sucked in a squeaking breath and shook his head, face so red it had to have hurt, and I felt my heart skip a beat when he backed up toward my nightstand, hand reaching for the cursed drawer that contained not only lube and condoms, but rather unsavory items from my mother.

“Tate- wait-”

“This is where you keep it, right?” He eyed me with strange skepticism, and it’s not like I could outright go,  _‘Hey, could you not? There are vibes and dildos in there I don’t want your sweet virgin eyes to see quite yet, you might flee my house in embarrassment.’_

So I sucked in a breath and watched his face morph into shock when he pulled the drawer open. Somehow, his face went several shades darker, a feat that would have been impressive if not for the fact that I’m sure my own face was the same damn color.

“Roby, what the hell?” He cast a glance at me that was just short of throwing daggers into my skull.

“Now, wait, just-” I sucked in a heavy breath and sighed, dropping my face into the sheets beside his hip. My voice was muffled by the fabric. “You can thank my mom.”

“What!?”

I lifted my head sheepishly. “She thought she was helping. You know. In a creepy mother way.” I felt like my soul had left my body as I watched him pull one of them out. It was a strangely cute little thing, egg-shaped with mouse ears and a long tail that had a wide bow on the end. The bow itself had the controls, apparently.

Tate rolled it around in his hand and an amused smile curled his lips. It made some of the tension melt away from my shoulders. God, how could anyone be beautiful and hot and everything in between?

“This looks impractical as hell.”

I laughed and crawled up towards him, plopping myself down beside him on the bed. I guess we were taking a breather from the real action, which was fine with me. We had plenty of time.

“It does. But I’m sure Luna would have loooooved it,” I teased, and he let out a short bark of a laugh, free hand moving to punch my shoulder. I winced and leaned away, his eyes widening in concern- he’d spaced my healing ink and I waved him away.

“I’m fine. Just stung. But I deserved it.”

“You totally did.”

A comfortable silence fell over us, and then he broke it with probably the most ridiculous suggestion to ever come from his lips.

“I think it’d be fun to try it out, though.”

It was still processing even as I watched him root around deeper into the drawer, retrieving what he had originally been seeking- the small bottle of lube that I had used on him a few times already. It made handling him smoother and easier.

I gulped in a breath and shifted back on the bed, laughing through my teeth. “You’re crazy.”

He lifted his brow at me, eyeing me with an obvious challenge in his eyes. He wiggled the mouse in my direction. “And you’re chicken. You had a point?”

I huffed and fell for his trap, snatching the mouse from his hand. He giggled in triumph, biting his lip when he handed me the lube. Tate glanced away in embarrassment, the tips of his ears a bright pink. I slid back down to re-position myself between his legs, and they fell open wider of their own accord. I smirked.

“Eager?”

“Shut up and do it. Befo-oohh…” Instead of letting him finish his sentence, I dropped the stuff clutched in my hand to drag my finger in a slow line from the tip of his half-hard cock, all the way down to his taint. I had to bite back a noise of my own at his expression and the way he lifted his hips into my hand, letting me cup one cheek firmly, massaging it. I couldn’t help the appreciative hum.

He sucked in a breath at the press of the toy against him, squirming away with an indignant squeak. I bit back a snicker and flattened myself against the bed, kissing a slow trail along his inner thigh.

“Relax.”

I sank my teeth into his thigh and he outright moaned in surprise, cock twitching back to life inches from me. Not wanting to lose contact with him, I palmed the sheets for the tiny bottle- there! He cried out at how hard I’d been applying pressure to his thigh, and I eased up, looking sheepish.

“Sorry.” The lube was cold in my palm, but I focused heat toward that part of my body. I snickered at the mark I left on him, leaning back down to kiss it fondly.

“Mine, though.” He huffed and was opening his mouth to protest, but I could  _hear_  his jaw snap shut to silence the sound that threatened to break free. The tip of one finger brushed against the tight ring of muscle and he went still as stone.

“Relax,” I repeated, before pushing inside. My brow furrowed in concern, eyes raking up to his face, which was twisted in equal parts concentration and outright embarrassment- and even with a finger inside of him, I couldn’t stop the laugh.

He was opening his mouth to scold me- naturally- but I wiggled my finger instead, and he let loose a sound that was like a kitten trying to meow for the first time. I bit my lower lip, trying not to chortle at him.

Who said it was okay for anyone to be this goddamn cute?!

I exhaled, eyes falling back to my hand, my finger sinking inside up to the second knuckle. His breathing was erratic, and he squeaked with the second wiggle of my finger. He was warm, wrapped around me, his body keen on keeping me right where I was. I groaned when he twitched, head dropping to rest against his thigh. I huffed, but then smirked, realizing my breath had ghosted over his length, which was still half-hard- probably lost some of the blood with his panic.

I inched closer, a second finger pushing inside, and as the tip slipped in, I dragged my tongue along his underside.

The noise he made was obscene, and I felt dizzy with how fast the blood rushed south. His hips lifted, humping his cock against my mouth, insides clenching around the intruding fingers.

Was tonight just a test of my patience and resolve? Because it was going, and fast.

I let my tongue loll out, dragging a lazy circle around his head. He moaned, a gorgeous, needy sound, and I felt his hips give an impatient thrust downward, further impaling him on the fingers inside.

I dared to look up at his face- and almost came right then and there.

His eyes were half-lidded, and what I could see of them- his pupils were blown, cheeks and neck and chest flushed red. His mouth was hanging open, brow furrowed down at me, and he was watching me- every little movement, and I quirked an eyebrow at him, mouth curling into a slight smirk.

It was a good thing he couldn’t see my lower half- my boner would betray the cool act entirely!

I tried to pull away in that next breath, but something overcame Tate in that same moment. He shook his head rapidly, the ghost of a protest on his lips, and his hands found their way into my hair. I had just enough time to process the contact, a noise of surprise leaving me when he pulled me to his pelvis.

His length disappeared down my throat, and I choked, mouth suddenly so full- but much to my embarrassment, the rough treatment made my cheeks ignite in a bright blush that spread to my ears. I looked up, meeting his eyes, and that only egged him on; his fingers curled, nails sinking into my scalp, his hips snapping forward sharply. I inhaled in a sharp breath, my free hand lifting to grasp his hip with bruising insistence. He pulled back, tip almost sliding free, before slamming home again.

He carried on like that for a while, and I couldn’t do much but let him use me. It was shamefully hot- it was a definite first for the kid, making a move like this on his own- but fuuuuck-

Tears rolled down my cheeks, and I swallowed around him. He whined, and I felt him still, hips stuttering to a halt.

I squirmed in my spot, finding little friction to help with the growing problem in my own pants. His breath was uneven, and with the way he twitched in my mouth, I was certain he was close.

“R-Robyn?” His voice was strained and pleading. I shot him a look, then focused elsewhere, cheeks still too warm, the situation at hand making me feel like I would boil alive.

The grip against my head lessened, soft fingers brushing soothing circles against the indentations he’d caused. “I-…I’m close. C-Can you-?”

I popped off of him, and he squeaked in surprise, my fingers giving a firm, unforgiving thrust inside. Tate yelped, and I grinned up at him. He paled at my expression.

“How can you act all sweet and shy after you fucked my throat?” I watched in amusement while his face lit up with a red brighter than a freshly-painted firetruck. I scissored my fingers inside, spreading him open wider, and his mouth fell open in a surprised ‘o’.

“I- I-I’m sorry-”

I shrugged, one nonchalant roll of my shoulders, and dipped forward, taking him back into my mouth. He stilled, then squeaked again, reminded of my fingers inside, as I shifted to try to push in a third.

But he wouldn’t even make it that far- with the press of the third finger, he came undone.

Warm, thick fluid flooded my mouth, and I fought to swallow it all, a few drops escaping and rolling down my chin. I felt dizzy as I pulled back completely, a lazy tongue working to clean up the rest of him.

I let my eyes follow the line of his stomach, the flat, heaving chest, and my heart skipped a beat when I met his eyes, soaking up his expression- eyes clouded, mouth hanging open, cheeks flushed, with a few tears that had collected at the corners. I grinned, at last releasing his hip, and using those fingers to wipe the spilled seed off of my chin.

He watched with rapt fascination as I dragged my tongue over my index finger, his brow knitting in concentration.

Then, despite his legs probably being numb, he was sitting up and crawling toward me. I had little time to prepare before he pushed me back on the bed, my head hanging over the edge.

“Tate?” I worried that I had overstepped, maybe I’d made him mad, or something, and now he was going to-

-kiss me?

It was timid, and warm, and everything I didn’t know I needed. No doubt he could taste himself, and somehow, that just made it hotter.

He broke the kiss and squirmed into my lap, making himself comfortable, and I found it hard to breathe- my cute, naked boyfriend was in my lap, inches from a very painful erection.

It took every ounce of self-control in my body to keep my voice level. “What are you doing?” I swallowed, letting my tongue trace my lower lip, hands moving to wind around his thin waist.

His hands smoothed over my chest, and I shivered, his palms icy against the naturally heightened heat of my skin. They stopped at the waistline of my dress pants, and I froze.

“W-what about the toy? I thought you-” He cut me off with an insistent, quick kiss, and it sent my stomach fluttering. He was never usually this bold- not that I was complaining.

“Another time.” He swallowed, and with his proximity, I could hear the gulp. “I just- I want- want to help you. Okay?”

“I’m fine,” I said. Like a liar. He quirked a brow in disbelief, clearing his throat as he looked down between us. My fingers twitched against his waist with my exhale.

I hesitated, lifting my eyes to look at him. There were a few questions I wanted to ask- especially about the sudden, brief show of dominance earlier- but it was getting harder to think with how fuzzy my brain felt.

Through it all, though, was the anxiety.

“I-I don’t want to rush this. Rush you.” He snorted in surprise, my breath catching when his wandering fingers danced over my fly. He undid the button with ease, my mouth feeling so, so dry.

He opened his mouth, then snapped it shut, his face warming back to that familiar shade of pink. It seemed his bravado was slipping away. I couldn’t fight my smile, and I didn’t want to. I let my hand lift, limbs feeling like they were running on autopilot, the softness of his hair sliding between my spread fingers. He hummed into the contact, head lowering to bump his forehead against mine. His nerves were back with force- I could tell from a look alone.

I stole a quick kiss against the tip of his nose, then bent to press my mouth to his. He swallowed and stared back at me, gorgeous green eyes wide with worry.

“If you’re…sure.”

“I am.” So soft were the words that I had to strain. I grinned.

“Positive?”

His eyes narrowed in playful suspicion. “Yes.”

“On a scale of one to-”

He groaned and huffed. “Robyn, shut up and fuck me.”  _That_  got a new blush out of both of us, but I was more than happy to oblige him. My hands left him, thumbs hooking under the waist of my pants. I felt his eyes on me, even as he scooted back to allow me more room. Knowing he was watching me made the knot in my stomach tighten.

“Ack!” The damn things got stuck on one knee, and he laughed, a wholesome, beautiful sound that made me want to jump him all over again. He reached over, snagging the fabric, then yanking it off of me fully, to toss it toward the haphazard pile we were accumulating on the floor.

Curious hands crept up my thighs, tracing the lining of my boxers, and I couldn’t bite back the whine. His brow lifted in mock surprise, and I wanted to kiss the damn smugness off of his too-perfect face. Instead, my voice died in my throat while his fingers stopped at the hem.

Tate peered up at me, a silent plea for permission, and I nodded with enough force that I briefly wondered if my head would wobble free. My train of thought was thankfully derailed.

His mouth fell open in quiet appreciation at the way it sprang free, and he let out a quiet, disbelieving laugh. I wanted to protest, of course assuming he was laughing at the size- fucker always would be bigger than I was!- but I sank my teeth into my lower lip instead, his cool fingers dancing across the head.

“Where’s the lube?” The question bounced around in my skull, eyes focused on the way his fingers were curling around the shaft.

I mumbled something unintelligent, feeling my face redden further.

“Robyn?” He stopped, and oh, God, how I wanted to cry in frustration. I groaned, exasperated, and felt blindly around on the sheets, until my fingers came into contact with the familiar tube. I tossed it at him, and he squeaked in surprise when it smacked into his cheek.

“Sorry!” He snorted and shook his head. I watched, frozen in place, the faintly-blue liquid pooling in his palm. The initial contact made me squeak- “Cold! Cold!”- but then my brain was off flying on its own little high while he smoothed it over me.

I had just enough time to snap out of it while he re-positioned himself, slim hips hovering over mine, his one hand trying to guide me inside.

“W-wait, don’t you- uh!- want a condom or something?” Tate blinked and stared down at me, and I wanted to melt into the sheets in embarrassment.

“Why?”

“S-so it doesn’t- um, go inside?” A nice little portal to hell would be nice, right about now. Maybe down there I could articulate better while completely pantsless.

“Roby, hush.” I couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, while I watched him lower himself down. There was some resistance at first, but then the tip pushed through, and I let loose the most ridiculous noise that had left my mouth that night.

He was warm, and tight, and I felt like I was going to pass out when he let me sink further. I let myself fall onto my elbows for support, fingers twisting into the sheets, the texture anchoring me to the here and now.

Here, where I was halfway inside my best friend, and trying not to totally lose it.

I focused on his face instead of where we were connected, and for fuck’s sake, it didn’t help me any. This was the most he’d ever had, and it was a struggle to keep a poker face. He sucked in a breath, eyes flickering to mine. I forced a smile, trying to ease his nerves, but I doubted it was very effective. I gave an experimental wiggle, and he squeaked, hands slapping over his mouth.

In the next beat, he was fully seated in my lap, and I was buried to the hilt. He tightened around me, hugging the base, and I felt like I was going to black out from the sensory overload.

Shit, it felt like my first time all over again!

I pawed blindly for him with one hand, then the other, wrapping him in a bear hug, our chests pressed together. He clung to me just as tightly, head dipping to rest against my shoulder, and I could feel how badly he was shaking.

“Breathe,” I reminded gently, rubbing soothing circles into his shoulders. He sucked in a shuddering breath, readjusting to press his mouth flush to my skin. Gradually, his death grip on me lessened, and he slumped in my arms, nuzzling in against my neck. My stomach fluttered at the affection.

I felt him inhale. “Move.” A simple word, filled with so much demand. I gripped his hips and pulled out, inch by inch, and when the head almost popped free, I pushed back inside, in one long pull. Hot breath ghosted over my own overheated skin, and I suppressed a shudder, wincing when his nails dug further into my skin. A small, uncomfortable noise left his lips, muffled by my neck.

“How are you feeling?” My voice broke in the middle, but I didn’t care. I kinda had bigger fish to fry.

“Full,” came the mumbled response, and I snorted, one hand hooking underneath his chin, tilting his face to mine. His eyes searched my own, and I took the opportunity to distract him.

My free hand wound around his shaft, fingers pausing to play with his head, then smoothing down his length in one tight stroke. His mouth fell open in surprise, a soft, whining moan escaping before he could even think to stop it.

I felt myself throb inside, and I had no doubt he could feel it, too. I grinned, like a cat caught with the canary’s feathers in his teeth.

“You’re beautiful, y’know that?”

“S-shut- mmn.” I cut him off with a kiss, tugging at his bottom lip while my hips gave a small thrust, testing the waters. He stiffened and groaned, brow furrowing, his eyes fluttering open to watch me release his lip. I ducked my head, teeth sinking into his jaw. He moaned, long and low, while I licked a trail up to his ear.

I laughed against his lobe, and my head spun, a sudden, brief clench from him making it hard to think. “How much do you want me to lead?” He whimpered at the teeth brushing over the shell of his ear.

“All of it. P-please! Stop- stop teasing.” His voice was raw, demanding, and I felt a new wave of gooseflesh break out over my skin when he grabbed my face, yanking me back enough to smash his lips to mine.

He pushed me down onto the bed, falling with me, and he whined at the loss, my cock sliding out completely. I trembled at the cool air, but gave him little time to respond, hands grabbing his hips and shoving him back, impaling him once more.

He cried out against my lips, his hands tangling tightly into my hair. “More,” he managed against my mouth, kissing me again and again. I inhaled, grasping him as tight as I dared, knowing damn well he’d have bruises, as I moved him mercilessly against me.

He insisted on the pace, and caution be damned, I stopped worrying about hurting him after the third thrust. He broke the kiss, gasping for air, then moaning when I slammed home again.

He began rocking back into me, meeting me halfway, and all coherent thought went with it. I remember how he flashed me a grin, mischief in his eyes, when he gave a particularly hard push back, purposefully tightening with the movement.

My back arched and I whined. “That’s cheating, fucker,” I managed, and I sounded a million miles away to my own ears.

Two could play at that game.

I stopped my hips, and the noise he made was both cute and hot- only he could manage something between a confused squeak and a disappointed moan. His eyes met mine, and I grinned, hands gliding over his thighs, then hooking behind his knees. Bewildered, he squawked when I pushed him backward, and our contact was broken once more. He whimpered, and I hummed in quiet agreement.

Tate flopped onto the sheets back-first, legs spread, and I felt my mouth go dry again at the sight of him. I snapped myself out of it, shifting forward, practically bending him in half, and he was opening his mouth to question me when I slid back inside. His back arched, chest flush to mine, then his hands were in my hair again, pulling me down into a messy, clumsy, needy kiss. I let him lead it, using my hands to support myself enough to resume thrusting. The new angle sent me deeper, and in no time he was bucking against me, exhaling rapidly against my cheek, muffled noises coming from our connected mouths.

I must have hit what I had been searching for, because he jolted away from me with a gasp that ended in a whine, his fingers gripping my hair tighter in surprise. I laughed- couldn’t help myself, really- and angled myself to brush against that spot. His second gasp was sharper, and he pushed back against me, urging me on. His chest was pressed flush to mine once more, and I could  _feel_  how hard his heart was beating.

I yelped against his mouth when sudden hands- when the hell had he  _moved_  them?- grabbed my ass, kneading and yanking me harder against him with every thrust. The new connection made me moan, especially when he shoved me back up against that spot of his, hard enough that we both saw stars.

“Roby..” It was breathless and needy and edged with unspoken warning as to how close he was, lips popping free of mine, to trace demanding, quivering kisses along my jaw. No doubt he could tell how close I was- every thrust had me trembling harder, cock twitching within him.

“Together?” It was a silly, heart-melting notion in the middle of our senseless, needy humping, and I went to respond- but moaned the loudest yet, when small, sharp teeth sank into my throat.

“Nnnh! Not if- you keep pullin’ that-” I laughed. I sounded so far away from my own ears. He rutted up against me in the next beat, spasming around my driving cock, and it felt unfair, like he was already trying to draw it out of me.

I snaked a hand between us, sneaking fingers wound around his length. He gasped and jerked, one hand wrenching free from behind me to cling to my hip, while that other damn hand still squeezing my ass- fuck him, in so many ways- yanked me tighter against him.

That had been my undoing.

I stiffened, head spinning, the heat that had been pooling in my stomach jetting forth. His insides clenched in that same heartbeat, his head dropping back, beautiful eyes rolling back into his skull, while his own length jerked in my hand. I could feel warm liquid spill out over my fingers, even watching through my own fog as several ropes jettisoned onto his heaving chest.  _Damn_.

My hips gave several, unconscious thrusts forward into him, but there was no force behind them. He moaned weakly, and I watched another, smaller jet spill out over his navel to join the mess.

We stayed connected like that for a while, breathing heavy, trying to get our heads where they belonged.

Then, the damnedest thing came out of that stupid, pretty face of his, and I about died.

“My ass hurts.”

I balked at him, then was bent over him laughing harder than I had dared in my life. He joined in after a stunned moment of silence, and soon enough, we were just a tangled, giggling heap of sweat and ejaculate-covered idiots.

Our cleanup was sluggish and half-hearted, and after using almost an entire box of tissues, I dragged him off to the shower, where many  _exuberant_  and breathy exhalations could be heard.

Thank  _God_  we were home alone. It made me wonder- when could we get an apartment of our own? Using a filter during sex  **had**  to suck, and not in the fun way!

We ended up passing out on my bed together, sheets mussed and sweaty and only half-covering our marked-up bodies. He had bruises and hickies in as many places as I could manage, and with a self-satisfied smirk, my boyfriend nuzzled in against my chest, I passed the fuck out.

Life was good.


End file.
